


Goldenfist

by inlovewithnight



Category: Archer (Cartoon)
Genre: Captivity, Fisting, Fuck Or Die, Multi, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-06
Updated: 2012-12-06
Packaged: 2017-11-20 11:48:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/585097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inlovewithnight/pseuds/inlovewithnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It would go in the records as absolutely, unequivocally, Cyril's fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goldenfist

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zee/gifts).



"Let's take a vote," Lana said. "Everyone who thinks it's Archer's fault we're naked and locked in a cell by unspecified rebels, say aye." 

"Aye," said Pam and Cheryl. 

"I'm so surprised." Lana glared at Archer. "You idiot." 

"Everyone who thinks it's Cheryl's fault for not being able to do evasive maneuvers in a cargo van, say aye," Archer snapped. 

"Oh," Pam said. "I change my vote to that." 

"But Archer is the one who told Cheryl to drive," Lana said. "Instead of someone who _can_ do evasive maneuvers. Like, say, me." 

"I change my vote back." 

"Well guess what, Pam. And everyone. You can vote as many times as you want, but this is not a democracy, it's a dictatorship. When we're in the field, I'm in charge. I'm the dictator." He stopped and blinked. "The dick-n-taters. Why haven't I used that as a name for my penis?" 

"Because it's idiotic," Lana said. "And so are you." 

"As dictator, I could have you executed for that." 

"First you'll have to borrow a weapon from the people holding us prisoner." 

"Could we maybe all agree that this is Cyril's fault?" Cheryl asked from her spot in the corner. 

They all looked at each other for a moment, then shrugged. "Aye." 

** 

_24 hours earlier_

"And here are your tickets," Cyril said. "As part of our new BudgetFirst initiative--" 

"I think you mean our new super-boring initiative." 

"Thank you, Archer. As I was saying--" 

"The ruin-all-fun initiative." 

"You're not supposed to be having fun, you're supposed to be _working_." 

"I'm a finely-tuned machine, Cyril. I operate best when I'm having a good time. And flying my own private jet." 

"Well, today you're flying commercial. Coach." 

"Coach!" 

"Breathe, Archer," Lana said. 

" _Coach_!" 

"I don't want to fly coach, either," Cheryl said. 

"Don't be such a crybaby," Cyril snapped. "Both of you." 

"I'm not crying," Sterling said, wiping his eyes. "I'm planning how to kill you." 

"Stop being such a delicate flower, Archer. Honestly. You would think you'd been catered to your entire life by your mommy. Oh, wait." 

"Delicate flower? I'll show you a delicate flower. I'm a deadly flower. I'm poison. Arsenic." 

"That's not a flower." 

"Cyril, I will murder you in your sleep and I am not flying coach." 

"What about our posters?" Pam wailed. 

Cyril blinked. "Your posters?" 

"Yes, Cyril." Sterling pulled a poster from behind a nearby file cabinet. Pam did the same. "We would hardly go to an international spy conference without being prepared for the poster session." 

"I wouldn't call you prepared," Lana said. "Your poster looks like a six-year-old made it." 

"It's _fine_. And Cheryl was going to help me finish it on the plane. Except now we can't, because there's no room in coach for paper punches and glitter gluesticks." 

"I have a whole extra bag just for glitter gluesticks." Cheryl held up the bag in question. "I got it for ordering so many of them." 

"Your poster is about..." Cyril leaned in closer. "Wardrobe choices for the sartorially conscious field agent." 

"It's an important issue. But my panel proposal was rejected in favor of Lana's." 

Cyril looked at Lana. "What's your panel?" 

"Advances in small-arms technology. I'm pretty jazzed about it." 

"Oh, nice!" 

"Don't you want to know about my poster?" Pam asked. 

They all looked at her. The poster said "Recruitment Techniques and HR Concerns Regarding Soldiers of Fortune." 

"That seems pretty straightforward," Cyril said. 

"It also makes me nervous," Cheryl added. 

"In a good way?" Lana rolled her eyes. "I can practically see your panties getting wet." 

"Bet you can't, cause I'm not wearing any." 

Sterling brightened. "Cheryl, let's go work on my poster right now." 

"Pig," Lana muttered. 

"Anyway," Cyril said loudly. "Here are your tickets. Have a nice flight." 

"Did you at least arrange a car for on the other side, or are we taking the bus?" Lana asked. 

"I booked you a car, you whining ingrates." 

"Watch it, Cyril." 

"I'm watching Archer glitter Cheryl's gluestick." 

"Sterling!" Lana shouted. 

"What? She wasn't wearing panties, Lana. I'm powerless in the face of that. It's on my poster." 

** 

"It's almost amazing," Lana said with heavy sarcasm, "that we got kidnapped by unspecified rebels after Cyril booked us a cut-rate driver with a cargo van who stood there holding a sign that said ISIS AGENTS." 

"They ruined my poster," Pam said. 

"They stole all my glitter gluesticks," Cheryl said. 

"They also kidnapped us and locked us up naked, could we focus on that?" 

Cheryl made a face. "I'm focused on how Archer should maybe do some sit-ups." 

"Oh. Oh wow. I can't believe you just said that." 

"I'm just saying..." 

"You're just taking a machete to my self-esteem, Cheryl. And not even because you mean it, just because you're bored." 

"Mmm, I think I do mean it." 

"Oh. Okay. Don't talk to me for the rest of the abduction." 

"Archer," Lana said wearily. 

"No, Lana. No. There are some insults I need time to forgive." 

"Insults to your abs." 

"Yes." 

_ISIS AGENTS_ , came a voice from the loudspeaker mounted in one corner. _ATTENTION, ISIS AGENTS._

"I'm not able to communicate in an official capacity right now, Lana. I'm too distraught." 

"That's fine, Archer. Go do your sit-ups." 

"Crunches, I think. Many crunches." 

"Have fun with that." 

_ISIS AGENTS. WE ARE ADDRESSING YOU._

"We hear you!" Lana yelled. "And we're pissed!" 

"Some of us are distraught." 

"Shut up, Archer." 

"I'm crunching!" 

"Crunch quietly." 

_ISIS AGENTS. THERE HAS BEEN AN ERROR ON OUR PART._

Lana frowned. "What kind of error?" 

_WE DIDN'T MEAN TO TAKE **YOU**_. 

"Me personally or us as a group?" 

_WE MEANT TO ABDUCT THE AGENTS FROM ODIN._

"ODIN!" Archer yelped. 

"Keep crunching, Archer." 

" _ODIN!_ " 

_YOUR MYTHOLOGICAL NAMES ARE DIFFICULT TO DIFFERENTIATE_. 

"They come from completely different traditions, so that excuse is a little weak." 

"Lana," Pam said. "Don't antagonize them." 

"It's weak, Pam. You know it is." 

"That doesn't mean you need to antagonize them!" 

"Yeah, Lana," Cheryl said. "Don't be so full of yourself for once." 

"You're feeling awfully feisty today, Cheryl. Almost like you want a field agent to punch you in the face." 

"I'd prefer spanking. Or choking. But I'm not picky." 

"Well, you're not going to get anything, because you _are_ extremely annoying." 

_WE COULD, IN THEORY, RELEASE YOU NOW._

"That would be convenient. We would appreciate it." Lana folded her arms across her chest. "I think I could still make my panel." 

_OR WE COULD KILL YOU._

"Less convenient," Pam said. 

_WE HAVE DECIDED, HOWEVER, TO HUMILIATE YOU._

Lana blinked. "Clarification--humiliate us more than we do simply by being ourselves?" 

_YOU MUST FUCK. OR DIE._

There was a long pause. They all stared at each other. 

"Fuck what?" Lana asked finally. 

_EACH OTHER._

"I was afraid you were going to say that."

"I'm not touching Cheryl," Archer said. "I'll tell you that right now." 

"You didn't have that problem yesterday," Cheryl said accusingly. 

"You weren't being _mean_ yesterday." 

"I'll fuck Cheryl," Pam said. "I volunteer." 

Lana, Cheryl, and Archer all turned to stare at her. 

"Really?" Archer asked. "You? And her?" 

"I'm kind of in the mood for feisty." Pam held up one hand. "And spanking." 

"It's like a flipper," Archer whispered. 

Cheryl nodded. "Sploosh." 

"That means I'm stuck with Archer, I guess," Lana said. "Don't think I won't remember this and get vengeance on both of you skanks." 

Pam wrapped her arms around herself. "Double sploosh." 

** 

"Lana," Archer whispered urgently. "Lana, I need to talk to you." 

"Not now, Archer." 

"Lana. It's urgent." 

"I'm making a list of supplies for the people holding us captive to provide before we start having sex with each other. What's more urgent than that? Wait. Don't answer. I don't want to know what kind of answer you might come up with." 

"Lana, I need to _talk to you_. Right now." 

Lana sighed and put her list down. "So talk, Archer." 

Archer stared at her for a moment. "I'm not sure I'll be able to provide the experience you're expecting." 

"Oh my god." 

"I'm serious, Lana. Cheryl really rattled my confidence, and also it's cold in here." 

"Yeah, you'd think they'd heat the cells better. It's almost like they don't want the people they're torturing to be comfortable." 

"Have you seen anyone about this attitude problem of yours, Lana? Because it's going in your next performance review. I'm telling you that right now." 

"On what planet do you do my performance reviews?" 

"I will have Mother add a peer review section, and I will highlight your attitude problem!" 

"Archer..." Lana checked herself and sighed. "I am fully prepared for your inability to perform." 

"Whoa. Wait. I'm not saying I won't be able to _perform_." 

"Okay." 

"I will achieve and sustain a truly magnificent erection, Lana." 

"Okay, Archer." 

"It's just that the overall experience might not reach the heights of _sublime_ I allowed you to get used to while we were dating." 

"Allowed me." 

"I might just be _awesome_. Instead of magical. It'll be great sex, instead of a transcendent, life-altering experience." 

"I'm just going to stop you right here, Archer, and let you read this." 

Archer frowned at the list. "That's a lot of lube you're requesting." 

"Yes." 

"And latex gloves." 

"Yes." 

"And a strange dearth of condoms." 

"Uh-huh." 

"Lana. Are you under the impression that there is going to be _insertion_ of some sort into my body?" 

"Aw, c'mon, baby, you liked it the last time we did it." 

"That was not in front of an audience, Lana! An audience of coworkers and kidnappers." 

"Do you want them to be more impressed with Pam and Cheryl than they are with us?" 

Archer stopped and stared up at the camera for a moment. "I... I would have no chance but to end my life." 

"Exactly. Go do some stretches or something." 

Archer placed his hand on her arm. "You'll be tender, won't you, Lana? Gentle with me." 

"Go away, Archer." 

"I'm just asking for some consideration before you fist me in public!" 

Pam and Cheryl looked up in unison. "Aw, man," Pam said. "Some people have all the luck." 

** 

"Look at them," Pam said a while later, resting her chin in her hands while she and Cheryl watched Lana attempt to stay buried to the forearm in a squirming, yelping Sterling Archer. "It's like she's helping him birth a baby calf." 

"Oh, if he's going to birth something, that explains his softened stomach muscles." 

"Shut up, Cheryl!" Archer shouted. "Oh my god, Lana, I genuinely think you're about to pull me inside-out." 

"If you would stop _moving_ \--" 

"I can't stop moving if _you_ don't stop moving! Holy god, woman, did you just rotate your wrist?" 

" _Just_ like birthing a calf," Pam said happily. "Beautiful memories." 

Cheryl shifted a little closer to Pam and looked up at her through her eyelashes. "So what are you planning to do to me when it's our turn?" 

Pam cracked her knuckles slowly. "Well, first I'm going to spank you, like you asked for. Then I figured I'd fingerbang you for a while, a little pussy-slapping just to carry the spanking theme through a little more, and then I'll piss on your face." 

Cheryl gasped softly and placed her hand on Pam's arm. "Pam, I am so sorry I've been so mean to you all of these years." 

"Apology accepted." 

"And I'm sorry I sometimes put horse tranquilizers in your coffee so we don't have to have sensitivity seminars." 

"That was you? My money was on Krieger." 

"Totally me. He uses monkey tranquilizers." 

"Well, that explains a lot." 

"But no more, Pam. Never again. Because I think..." Cheryl blinked away tears. "I think you just might be... the woman of my dreams." 

"I've heard that before," Pam said calmly. "It's a combination of my ample bosom and my general lack of boundaries." 

"I can't believe I didn't notice those things before. I love those things. Those things _plus_ a willingness to piss on my face?" Cheryl threw her arms around Pam. "Oh my god. I've been waiting for you and I didn't even know it." 

"If you want, I'll twist your nipples in opposite directions like I'm trying to tune an old radio until you pass out." 

Cheryl pressed her face to Pam's neck. "Let's get married," she whispered. 

** 

"Well," Mallory said with overwhelming distaste. "Congratulations. That was the least appealing debrief that you people have ever come up with." 

"The tapes are out there, too," Archer said. "Somewhere." 

"I don't even want to think about that. The idea of Lana stuffing you like a turkey with her giant shovel hands makes me want to puke all over you." 

"How do you think it makes _me_ feel?" 

"Multi-orgasmic, I'm pretty sure the tapes would say," Lana said proudly. "Suck on that." 

"Please," Cyril said faintly. "Please stop." 

"My shovel hands have magic powers. Suck it." 

"I wouldn't mind experiencing them," Cheryl said, then gasped as Pam yanked on her leash. "Ohmygod Pam." 

"Behave, princess, or we're not going to play sexy spanking games when we get home." 

"And _you_ two." Mallory pointed at them. "Do not bring your sex life into the office." 

"Everybody else does," Cheryl whispered. 

"Be that as it may, leave the choke chain at home tomorrow. Pam, honestly, you should know better! You're head of HR!" 

"That reminds me." Pam stood up. "There will be a seminar on sensitivity and sexual harassment this afternoon, and I am drinking my coffee out of the blue mug today. Thank you." 

"I need to go lie down," Cyril said. "I'll be taking the afternoon off, Mallory." 

Archer leaned over the table toward him. "You know what the last thing you'll hear as you drift off to sleep is, Cyril?" 

"The haunted screams of my brain dying as I unwillingly picture Lana fisting you?" 

"No. My voice, whispering in your ear, that _none of this would've happened if you hadn't made us fly coach._ "

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic of] Goldenfist](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11387670) by [Dr_Fumbles_McStupid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_Fumbles_McStupid/pseuds/Dr_Fumbles_McStupid)




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